


S Comes Before T

by khanandjohn



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, lourry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khanandjohn/pseuds/khanandjohn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Larry fluff! Louis hates being last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S Comes Before T

A/N: this is a larry. That means Louis Harry love. 

 

Crazy, crazy, crazy, 'til we see the sun…

Louis leaned back against a wall of plush pillows, his feet kicked up on the edge of their living room coffee table. There were towels all around him: slung across his shoulders, behind his back, underneath his soaked shorts- all in a futile effort to protect the furniture.  
Perhaps if he'd had more energy, the young man might have deigned to change his clothes and thensettle upon the couch, but for the moment he was content. The entire day had been spent running, jumping, and flopping into lake water all for one single music video. Each scene had been fun the first go around, but as with filming, the initial footage was never "acceptable". Thanks to the film director's fickleness, water now seemed to be perpetually lodged in his ear.

"To make matters worse, I can't get that damn thing out of my head…" Scowling at nothing in particular, Louis rubbed at his forehead. If "Live While We're Young" kept him up all night, maybe he really would go insane. It seemed that every time his eyelids began to droop, the song would suddenly invade his subconscious and force his eyes back open. There'd be no rest tonight, apparently. He shifted in frustration, huffing somewhat dramatically.

"What's with that look on your face, Lou?" Arms crossed, a puzzled expression on his face, Harry stood in the open bathroom doorway. His eyebrows furrowed as he considered his friend, the other man awkwardly lounging upon their shared green and velvet couch.

Holding back a yawn, Louis reluctantly righted himself, his head bobbing back slightly as his body relaxed into more conventional position. Now that he could see him more clearly, Louis noted that Harry had exchanged his soaked clothes for a simple white t-shirt and brown shorts. The brunette curls of his hair were pasted together in a messy fashion, not that they were ever uniform or neat. In fact, the top of Harry's head always had the unique quality of resembling a mop, but it was more endearing than unsightly.

With a vigorous shake, Harry sent water droplets spiraling out of sight. A soft smile played across his lips as he sauntered over to Louis, his hand tugging at the towel on the other's lap before using it to wipe away the water drops sliding down his nose.

"I think I might be going mad," Louis complained through a sigh as watched Harry dry his face. Seeing his rosy cheeks, he couldn't help the smile that slipped across his lips.

"Positively bonkers," Harry agreed, exposing his teeth in a large grin, his eyes glowing ever brighter. Comfortably, he plopped down next to Louis. While they didn't touch, the closeness was enough to ease Louis's fatigue, if only by just a bit.

For a moment, they sat in silence. There was not a hint of tension nor awkwardness in the air. Between them, only contentment and the rhythmic sound of their breathing existed. Harry watched another water drop cascade down the bridge of his nose and then fall to his mostly dry tee shirt. Louis coolly regarded the other as Harry smiled to himself, thoroughly amused.

"Well, I ought to shower up and get this lake water off of me. Lord knows I'm last to do everything-" Louis closed his eyes, reminiscing, "to hop into the shower being one amongst others." Sighing, he started to rise from the couch, but plopped back upon the cushions at the sound of Harry's voice.

"What?" Harry gave a light laugh, looking up at his friend with playful eyes.

"Like in elementary school. Always last to line up, that was me. All because Tomlinson begins with a T. In third grade at least, I was in front of Ethan Vader," Louis spoke the name as though Christmas had come a month early. "But he moved away four months into the school year," he looked up to Harry with an almost pathetic look spreading across his tanned face.

"Ethan Vader?" Harry repeated the name laughing into the palm of his hand. Who knew that the crushed dreams of being line leader could be so haunting? "Did you want to be first that badly?" he asked, trying to catch his breath. He tried to look at Louis, but his whole figure was a foggy blob through the tears in his eyes.

"Well, yeah. There were a lot of things I was picked last for because of this cursed last name!" Louis shifted his body to the side, admittedly a bit indignant.

Noticing Louis's defensive posture, Harry began to wave his hands apologetically. "Sorry, sorry. I just don't see why you are so bothered by it."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Louis crossed his arms, half expecting a flippant answer in response.

"Because," Harry managed after having stifled his giggling. "I would always be right next to you." He threw his arm around Louis's neck and pulled him close. The water that stuck to Louis's body moistened his tee shirt even further, Harry's half smile speaking volumes on its own.

Another silence stretched between them. Flustered Louis's eyes searched the now calm countenance of his friend for an answer. Seconds ticked by, and slowly, a look of realization blossomed upon his features.

"S comes right before T in the alphabet," Louis murmured propping himself up to look at the other man more directly, a familiar warmth spreading in his chest. Harry's arm was now resting comfortably along Louis' waist.

"Still dying to be line leader?" Harry questioned, eyebrows rising inquisitively, though his cheeks grew pinker and pinker as he looked down to Louis' lips and back to his eyes.

"It's becoming.. uhh.." his mind was racing, trying to form words, though almost on autopilot he leaned in closer and closer, his lips ghosting over Harry's, "less.. and less.. appealing," he whispered before pressing his lips to the other man's.

Harry responded instantly, force entering his lips as he kissed back. Barely a breath escaped between them as Louis snaked a hand through Harry's mane, holding him close. Any hope of Harry's shirt staying dry evaporated, Louis now pushing the other against the arm rest of the couch.

"Took you long enough," Harry laughed, forehead still pressed against the other's, nose against his cheek. He joined their lips again; Harry could feel Louis smile into the kiss. But, all too soon, Louis pulled away reluctantly.

"As lovely as this is... I have swimmers itch," he looked apologetically into the other's eyes.

Harry gave a remorseful smile, already beginning to sit up again. "Then go," he whispered, kissing the other one last time for good measure.

Louis stood up slowly; trailing his fingers down Harry's arm before waddling to the bathroom. Harry's voice echoed down the hall whilst Louis was peeling off the drenched fabric of his t-shirt: "Still want to be the line leader?" He grinned as he padded in the direction of the shower, hand scratching his chest gingerly, lake water having reached his skin.

"When did I ever want that?" Louis replied, looking back with a half-smile.

-End-


End file.
